


Partners

by majorinconvenience



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: (how else do you think these two could flirt), ...yeah, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bad Flirting, Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, Fluff and Humor, Getting to Know Each Other, I'll add some more tags when I finish this, Kokichi is failing university, Minor Character Death (Mentioned), Multi, Mutual Pining, No Angst, Pre-Relationship, That trope when they're forced to work together, at least the idea was funny, but it's very brief and the character doesn't exist in canon, like 'there was only one bed' but 'there was only one partner available'
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28813908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorinconvenience/pseuds/majorinconvenience
Summary: Shuichi gets a weird partner for his final project on criminal psychology. How disastrous can it get?
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Harukawa Maki & Momota Kaito & Saihara Shuichi, Akamatsu Kaede/Iruma Miu (brief), Amami Rantaro & Iruma Miu & Oma Kokichi, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito (brief), Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 43





	1. Partners in crim...inal psychology?

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii <3
> 
> I came up with this dumb thing during the very first class of the new semester. My brain uses writing as a defense mechanism against university pressure, and I'd be perfectly fine with that if it also helped me finish everything. That being said, this fic isn't finished, although I already have a detailed plan for each chapter, and having it published will probably keep me motivated. I don't usually post unfinished things because I tend to drop them a lot, but... it's been put off in my drafts for almost a month. I decided to just. toss it in here and run away. 
> 
> I don't know why I was so eager to post this. It started as a practice for writing conversations since I realized I suck at this kind of thing. I hope this doesn't look too clumsy, especially the first chapter. It gets better in the next one, I promise. 
> 
> As always, I'm open to your comments and criticism, so feel free to point at things you don't like or find weird! I appreciate the feedback a lot, it helps me so much.
> 
> Anyways, I hope everyone who decides to read this mess is doing okay and stays healthy!! sorry for such a long intro. and for complaining all the time lmao
> 
> Thank you for giving my fic a chance!

November is a dark month. Even if the sun comes out, its light is just as faint and pale as people’s faces. Nights barely change into days; darkness never ends, it just drifts from one corner of the world to another. There’s no snow yet, but the trees are already naked and the grass is already dead. It feels like the world is still, motionless, captured in cold sleep, waiting until Winter finally arrives and freezes it completely.

That’s why it’s so difficult to get out of bed and concentrate on studying in November.

Shuichi takes another sip of his maxi-sized coffee cup that he filled with god knows how many shots of espresso while his criminal psychology professor, Mr. Kirigiri, is drawing plans and schemes on the blackboard. His voice is raspier than usual as if he got 10 years older in one night, and his long fingers are holding the chalk rather weakly. He looks exactly like Shuichi is feeling inside. Dead.

Shuichi loves this class, even though it tends to get boring over time. Mr. Kirigiri might be tedious, depending on his mood, but the things he talks about never fail to pique the aspiring detective’s interest. Moreover, the professor often comes up with unusual tasks and projects to challenge his students; he never explains why, but he has access to police archives, so he constantly picks up an interesting case or two and brings them to the table like a hunter bringing his children fresh meat for dinner.

Even so… today,

it’s

just…

Shuichi blinks, realizing he almost fell asleep. His sleep-deprived brain has muffled the professor’s voice and mixed up all letters on his laptop’s screen, turning the notes he made into a complete mess. Just to his disappointment, as soon as he regains concentration, Mr. Kirigiri wipes the blackboard clean and moves back to his chair. Crap. How much did Shuichi miss?

“Well, we’ve finished quicker than I expected,” the professor yawns. “However, I have something special prepared for you. I know finals are approaching so you all are extremely busy, but I found a _klondike_ of quite peculiar cases, so I want you guys to tinker with them a little.”

Half of the auditorium hums enthusiastically, Shuichi being one of them. The other half exchanges tired looks and disappointed sighs. The professor’s thin lips twitch in a subtle smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you work in pairs this time,” he promises to the tired students. “Not only that, but I’ll also evaluate this assignment as the final project for this semester, and you will be free from any other additional work afterward.”

The audience gasps. It certainly sounds like wonderful news. For Shuichi, this is both calming and terrible. He always gets stressed and overworks himself during pre-finals, so it’s a good thing he won’t have to worry about failing the last-minute assignments for his favorite class. If they finish this project by the end of this month, it means they will be free for the whole of December; it’s relieving how many tests and other papers might be avoided.

The downside of this is that they have to work _in pairs_. Saihara hates these kinds of projects. He prefers working alone, fully concentrated on the task; besides, he doesn’t have any friends from this major, so he never gets chosen by the students – instead, the teachers have to either include him in an already existing group like the third wheel or pair him with another underdog, forcing them to communicate and work together in a quite uncomfortable atmosphere. In most cases, Shuichi ends up doing nearly everything by himself, no matter how many people there are working alongside him. It’s depressing and unfair, but he calms himself down by thinking he’s still improving his skills and abilities with nothing and no one getting in his way.

Such an introvert he is.

Mr. Kirigiri takes the time to browse everything on his computer, then looks around the room. “I suppose everyone has already decided on their partner for now?” he chuckles, both voice and breathing tired. The class makes equally tired noises of agreement. “Very well, then. I’m gonna ask you to move to your partner’s desk so I can see every pair more clearly, okay? I won’t demand a list of names now since I know you guys have _commitment issues_ , but I will assign each pair a specific case with a certain number that you’ll have to put into the system to get your unique files. Now go on, kids.”

Shuichi watches everyone around him stand up and move around, quiet chatter filling the auditorium. Girls hug like they haven’t seen each other in years, boys pat each other on the backs, some people are fighting over their teammates already. In a matter of a few minutes, the whole class is divided into pairs.

With one exception, that is.

The professor’s sleepy eyes fall on Saihara, who’s sitting lonely in the front, fumbling with his empty coffee cup. “Saihara-kun… You’re left alone again, aren’t you?”

Everyone turns around, and the young detective notices their heavy gazes fixed on him. It’s quite unsettling; he feels embarrassed to be called out, sitting at his desk alone like some quiet creep. Lucky for him, Mr. Kirigiri can sense his perplexity very well. He gives the poor student a quick nod, then scans the room once again. It never takes him too long to come up with a solution to any problem.

“Let’s see… Oh!” His eyebrows raise as he stops at something far behind Shuichi. “You can work with that student – the guy in the back, with purple hair.”

Hm? Saihara glances over his shoulder, following the professor’s gaze. There is indeed a purple-haired guy at the very back of the auditorium, also sitting completely alone, surrounded by happy pairs whispering to each other. He’s wearing a checkered scarf, big purple sneakers, and an oversized white jacket, all covered in random add-ons, patches, and multi-colored clasps. Although he looks quite memorable, Shuichi is sure he’s never seen him here before.

Well, must be one of the slackers, not to mention he sits at the very back, barely noticeable.

“Thank you, Kirigiri-sensei.”

There’s no other choice, so Saihara obediently picks up his stuff and heads towards his newly assigned partner. A pair of purple eyes, big and curious, shoot at him faster than bullets as he gets closer and closer to the guy’s desk; the young detective notices that this boy is short and skinny, nearly scrawny, and that there’s a random game opened on his laptop instead of notes or coursebooks. A slacker, definitely. The very embodiment of one.

While Shuichi is sitting himself down, the professor starts a rollcall, assigning a number to each group. Because they sit at the very back, they’re probably going to get the very last number. Saihara figures they’ll have plenty of time to exchange some short introductions and starts mentally preparing himself. However, the guy just keeps staring at him without saying anything, like a curious wild animal seeing a human being for the first time.

Is he a weirdo or a sociopath? Will they even be able to get along? What if he turns out to be a creepy guy who will inevitably get Shuichi into trouble?

These random partners are such a pain. Saihara tries not to show his growing nervousness and stares back at the stranger.

They keep quiet. The guy doesn’t blink. Could it be a game of some kind? Confused, Shuichi also tries not to blink, but his sleepy eyes run out of energy pretty quickly, and he loses. As soon as his eyelids drop like shot balloons from the sky, the peculiar stranger starts snickering, a quiet _nishishi_ finally breaking the awkward silence.

“That was fast!” His voice sounds just as immature as his demeanor. “But very well, mister Long Eyelashes, I’m surprised you even figured this out!” 

( _Mister Long Eyelashes?..._ Not the worst nickname to deal with.)

Turns out it really was a game. Shuichi feels surprisingly proud of himself as if he just passed a difficult test with a perfect score. He’s not sure how to react to everything else that was said to him, though, and the way his new partner keeps studying him shamelessly with such a childish curiosity on his pale face is still making him nervous.

His inner voice tells him to just mimic the other’s body language. It’s proven to be the most effective way to moderate a conversation (omit the fact that you actually need _to start_ a conversation first). Even though he’s not used to staring at people, Shuichi decides to trust his intuition.

However, this time it doesn’t take too long for the stranger to speak again.

“Not very talkative, are we?” His lips stretch in a mischievous smirk, making him look like a fictional villain from some manga. “How boring. I was waiting for you to make the first move, but you kept quiet.”

If he gets no answer now, he might start babbling uncontrollably and make this situation feel even worse. No, he absolutely cannot claim leadership over their discussion. Saihara believes it would be a total mess, so he quickly breaks through every barrier his self-conscious mind has already built up and clears his throat.

“You were also quiet,” he blurts out. He wanted to seem cool, like a real detective during an interrogation, but in reality, his voice sounds quiet and timid compared to his teammate’s.

The purple-haired boy clenches his fists and bounces on his chair excitedly; he looks like he’s having fun, at least. Shuichi realizes he reminds himself of a grumpy teenager who was left alone with a neighbor’s younger kid. That situation would probably feel the same.

“ _Au contraire,_ I’m the one who spoke first two times in a row!”

This weird encounter continues to confuse the young detective. The more they talk, the more chaotic it gets.

“Was that French?”

“You speak French?” The smirk turns into a grin, a sharp blade of white teeth slicing Saihara’s eyes.

“No, my second language has always been English,” Shuichi instinctively scratches his neck. “Do you?”

“But of course!” The guy fixes his scarf with a haughty sigh. “ _Bonjour la pomme maman papa bon mauvais._ ”

“Oh. That’s– that’s cool.”

He didn’t sound like someone who speaks French. The way he pronounced each word was different from what Shuichi has heard, and there were long pauses between each word as though he was making them up on the go, naming anything he could remember randomly. Still, Shuichi decides not to walk on thin ice since he’s not familiar with the language himself.

“I can also speak English, Chinese, German, Russian, and Hindi!” the guy continues, spreading his arms with the confidence of a skilled entertainer on the stage. “I mean, I don’t wanna make mister Long Eyelashes jealous, but I can demonstrate my amazing polyglot abilities sometime later if you want.”

Hindi, he says. That _must_ be a lie. Although Shuichi does believe in incredibly talented people, he’s sure that the infantile boy in front of him isn’t one of them. He might, of course, speak some of the mentioned languages, but not all of those.

_Right?..._

The detective hesitates, thinking about whether he needs to pursue this lie or not, and his short delay is immediately used by the other boy.

“Aaaanyways,” he quickly scans the room to see how the rollcall has progressed, and so does Saihara. Turns out there are only a few pairs left. “Don’t you find it weird that you already know how many languages I can speak but not my name? Aren’t you curious?”

Their eyes meet again; Shuichi feels like he’s pressed against the wall because each stare the stranger gives him is piercing right through him. Even forensic scientists probably don’t examine their clues with such intense looks.

Well, to be frank, he is also strangely absorbed by his new acquaintance. Ever since he sat beside him, he hasn’t been paying attention to his surroundings at all – it rarely happens to him when he talks to strangers. This boy radiates weird energy that allows him to steal the spotlight easily, drawing Shuichi in more every second they talk, begging him to turn back as soon as he looks away.

Might as well find out his name, then. After all, this partner is definitely going to be nothing like any other person the lonely detective has ever been paired with.

“I _am_ curious. Let’s finally introduce ourselves, shall we?”

The purple-haired boy spins on his chair, throwing both his arms and legs into the air, and his eyes spark up with even more excitement than before. His petite figure takes up all the space around them, he’s everywhere, he’s overwhelming and engaging. Is this all an act, or is he really so invested in everything that’s happening between them? Shuichi hopes he’ll find out soon enough.

“I’m Ouma Kokichi! Nice to meet ya, I guess!”

_You guess?..._

Ouma Kokichi. Saihara repeats his name a few times to himself, in his head, wondering how it’s written. At the same time, he tries to relax as much as possible to greet his partner properly – with a friendly attitude, squeezing out a meek smile. That's the key aspect of starting a new working relationship, isn't it?

“Yes, nice to meet you, Ouma-kun!”

He nervously reaches out to Ouma, but the other won’t move a muscle to accept the handshake. It throws Shuichi off, blows away all his regained confidence in an instant. His smile disappears by itself, making him grimace uncomfortably.

“I-I’m Saihara Shuichi.”

He expects to receive any kind of reaction but gets absolutely nothing. His partner is frozen in place like a mannequin.

Here it is, this silent awkward pause again, just like at the very beginning of their encounter. Ouma is just staring blankly at the poor detective while the latter nearly loses his wits trying to figure out what could’ve gone wrong this time. He pays attention to Kokichi’s face in a desperate search for clues: the excited glow has left the purple eyes, and the lips have slowly straightened, now pursing. Why is he acting so serious out of the blue?

The pair sitting in front of them have raised their hands, answering Mr. Kirigiri’s call. There’s very little time left; it feels like it’s already been forever, and because of this unsettling, constantly changing atmosphere Shuichi is already craving to get down to work just so he could escape another fiddly exchange with his new colleague.

As if on cue, the said colleague suddenly opens his mouth again.

“Hm, very well, Saihara-chan, very well,” the tone of his voice lowers as he adjusts his posture, legs crossed with his laptop balancing on top of them. The way he addressed Shuichi is a bit confusing, but that’s not the strangest thing he’s said and done. “Now that we got introductions out of the way, let’s finally start.”

_Just… what the hell is going on now_ , Shuichi thinks, frowning and fidgeting nervously on his seat. “Start what, exactly?”

“The therapy session, of course!” Ouma rolls his eyes, then smirks again. “It’s gonna be our turn soon, after all!”

It is indeed: the last pair before them answers the rollcall. Saihara can barely keep his voice down from all the stress he’s enduring. He leans in towards his partner, closer to his ear, still keeping eye contact so that Kokichi sees the bewilderment in his tired gaze and reconsiders his current approach _(for the love of God)_.

“What therapy session? What are you talking about?”

Now that they’re so close, Shuichi notices a faint scent of grape soda along with a tiny purple stain on the other’s white sleeve, near a rainbow patch. This guy is probably a sweet tooth or at least a big fizzy drinks enthusiast, he determines.

Ouma giggles, shaking his head. “Jeez Saihara-chan! We’re in _psychology class_ , are we not? Training to be the best therapists alive, no less!”

His careless grin from ear to ear is the complete opposite of Shuichi’s scowling face. Just as though they’re sitting in two separate worlds, communicating through a poorly made device–

_…Wait a second._ Something’s not right. Saihara freezes like a dog who unexpectedly smelt a clue during an investigation. His inner voice repeats Kokichi's words in his head, and it clicks like a picked lock.

“We’re not?” he glares at his partner harder than any time before. “It’s _criminal_ psychology.”

“Was that a lame attempt for a pun or…?”

“Why would it be a pun? We are taking the criminal psychology class, Ouma-kun.”

For a second – _a mere second, or even less_ – Kokichi’s eyes widen as if he just realized something horrifying, and his thin lips twitch, ruining the nonchalant expression he was wearing. However, it disappears as fast as a fallen star in the night sky, and his face goes back to normal before Saihara can even blink.

_Was that…?_

“Saihara-kun!”

Mr. Kirigiri’s voice sounds so distant from here that Shuichi doesn’t recognize it right away. Like a strong gust, it blows away all heaviness and brightness of Kokichi’s presence, returning them into the calm auditorium. Surely the best alarm to wake up and start working to.

“Yes, Kirigiri-sensei!” Shuichi raises his hand rather excitedly. He’s glad to be back from whatever journey he was having just now.

The professor scrolls down his database with a light smile. He’s probably choosing a harder case since Saihara’s always been a hardworking student.

“I’ve assigned you a case number 137,” he announces after a little while. “Now if you log into our online course, it should appear in your profile, and you can share the link with your partner.”

“Understood.”

Finally! Shuichi can’t wait to log into the system and check out the new case. He glances at Ouma, curious about his reaction; the purple-haired boy blankly stares at his laptop, and he seems to be lost in thought. His gaze is emptier than Shuichi's coffee cup as if he's dissociating. However, as soon as he notices his partner’s gaze on him, which happens pretty quickly, the usual smirk crawls back onto his face.

“Your eyes are _glowing_ right now,” he snickers quietly. “Saihara-chan must be enjoying cracking cases open.”

“I do…”

The way their previous conversation ended still concerns Shuichi. The more he thinks about it, the stranger Kokichi gets, portrayed in his mind. He remembers the fact that he’s never seen this guy before, and even Mr. Kirigiri hasn’t called him by his name so far, meaning he probably doesn't know this student either. Shuichi isn’t a group chats guy, but he also can’t recall seeing his partner’s name in any of them, even though Ouma looks like someone who’d spam there all the time. He was the one who didn’t have a partner, just like Shuichi, therefore no one else really knows him (or, perhaps, no one wants to deal with his antics?).

Finally, his weird joke about psychology class and the reaction to Saihara’s words that followed next might imply that he’s simply lost. It’s hard to believe something like that, though. If it’s true, how come he didn’t leave as soon as he noticed he was in the wrong class? How did he fail to recognize anyone in the auditorium yet proceeded to sit through the entire period? Why would anyone do that?

This mysterious guy appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the semester, got paired with Shuichi for a project, confused the hell out of him… As much as he doesn’t want to deal with anything that’s not study-related right now, Saihara admits Kokichi might be a case of his own, tempting to be solved.

Mr. Kirigiri gets up from his seat and moves back to the blackboard.

“Now that every pair got their case, I’m going to give you a short explanation of the task,” he starts. “You’ll find a few things in the case folder. The first one is the case summary – what happened, who got hurt, who got involved, what’s important to notice. For the sake of the challenge, I removed information about some of the clues and pieces of evidence that point directly at the culprit.”

The audience hums. Shuichi tries to pay attention to his partner as well: Kokichi is listening to the professor with undeniable curiosity, but something in the way he smiles or in the way he looks at Mr. Kirigiri makes Saihara wonder if he even understands what they’re doing.

“The next files are videos of every witness interrogation the police went through to find and expose the culprit. Your objective is to watch these videos carefully and, using everything we’ve studied and read so far, identify the perpetrator of the crime. You’ll have to determine the reasoning and the motive behind their actions, too.”

That’s quite a task, Shuichi thinks. He’s used to relying heavily on the evidence he collects from investigations, and his most favorite strategy is to destroy the culprit with clues pointing directly at them. He’s not a big fan of psychological tricks and pressure without solid ground, so he usually perceives interrogations as a part of collecting and confirming evidence.

Ouma, on the other hand, looks like someone who’d love to pay close attention to body language, bluff in front of the suspects, and trick them in order to get a confession, or even a full tragic backstory in reward. It may be just a hunch, but that’s the way he’s been acting so far.

Still, Shuichi quickly reminds himself that this guy may not even be studying with him and that it’s highly likely that he doesn’t know a single thing about criminal psychology, so he smothers the thought. He can’t hope to rely on this stranger.

The professor smiles to himself, watching the troubled looks on students’ faces. “I’ll give you guys two weeks to do this. On Monday, _two weeks later, I repeat,_ you will have to present your case and your solution with your partner in no more than 3 minutes. Use whatever method of presentation suits you best but remember that if you don’t explain everything to us clear enough, it will lower your grade.”

Shuichi hears a lot of people grunting and whining about the presentation part. He’s a bit upset about this, too. He hates presenting projects and usually leaves it to other teammates, mostly because that’s the only thing they want to do, making him do all the actual work by himself. While he’s sure Ouma could handle an effective presentation with his colorful personality and melodic loud voice _(which is… pleasing to listen to, actually– um)_ , he still doesn’t want to rely on him much.

“Since we have 15 minutes left, I’ll let you guys work on your tasks for a little bit. Thank me later for making you start the project in advance.” Chuckling, Mr. Kirigiri returns to his chair, closing the curtain on the task explanation.

The room gets filled with quiet chatter in less than a minute. The pairs obediently get to work, with a few exceptions, and Shuichi decides to follow their example. He wants to figure out what Kokichi’s deal is in the meantime before this guy disappears. After all, he needs to understand what to expect from him. Combined with the work they have to do, it’s not going to be that hard.

Trying to look less concerned than he actually is, the young detective turns back to his partner. Time for a quick first test.

“Hey, do you have any books on you right now?” he asks. “I mean, I have them on my laptop, but it would be nice to have a physical copy while we’ll be watching the videos and stuff.”

He expects Kokichi to slow down and get confused, but no muscle twitch on his face; he looks completely relaxed as if he’s already cracked the case and is now watching his slow partner catching up with him.

“I don’t think I have any, Saihara-chan. I’m more of a manga guy.”

Well, if one doesn’t change the expression for too long, it might imply that they’re lying. Ouma seems to be lying non-stop, and if he is, he’s not that bad at it.

…Or so Shuichi thinks until his eyes find the other’s half-opened bag, presumably old and covered in badges just as much as his jacket. There are clearly some books inside: Shuichi sees their sharp edges pressing against the thick fabric, along with the whiteness of their pages. He points out the clue immediately.

“That’s wrong, Ouma-kun,” his voice gets a little more serious, which makes the called-out liar raise his eyebrows. “I’m not blind not to notice the books in your bag. And it’s definitely not manga. They look pretty thick.”

“ _You_ look pretty thick,” Kokichi rolls his eyes as his leg (un)subtly pushes the bag away from Saihara’s sight. “How dare you peep at my stuff like that! I’m deeply offended now.”

Even though he makes it explicitly clear that he’s got something to hide, he doesn’t say anything that Shuichi could successfully refute. What a great way to dodge a question.

“It’s just some books?” the detective blurts out. “I thought they were our coursebooks, that’s it. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I told you I didn’t have them, it’s not that hard to understand the words.” Kokichi seems annoyed, but Shuichi guesses it might be an act.

_(He wants it to be an act so bad. Because he can’t believe he managed to make his new partner uncomfortable in the first 30 minutes of their encounter. This is embarrassing.)_

“Sorry…” he retrieves, and the other boy sighs with dramatic relief.

Alright. It may be impossible to extract any useful information from Ouma himself. Shuichi needs a different method, and he knows exactly what it is. The easiest solution – the list of students majoring in criminology. Out of all places, his name must be written among them. If not, Shuichi’s craziest guess might turn out to be true.

“So, um,” he quickly logs into the system and moves the laptop closer to Kokichi. “Can you please find the case folder and download everything? I need to check something real quick.”

Ouma’s gaze feels especially piercing now, but he nods with surprising pliability. “Trusting your laptop to strangers, hm? Some detective you are.”

“What could you possibly do to it?” Shuichi blinks. “Change my desktop wallpaper?”

“Hmph,” a satisfied smile raises the corners of the other boy’s lips. “You sound like you want to test my sabotaging abilities.”

“I simply asked you to open the folder. It’s called a favor.”

“Do I look like someone who does favors for other people?”

He’s unbelievable.

“Ouma-kun, we’re _partners_ now.”

Another dramatic, heavy sigh tickles Shuichi’s hair as he watches Kokichi turn away and do what he’s told. It feels like a conversation between an adult and an edgy teenager. Once again, Saihara is tired and awkward, but somehow still invested in everything that’s happening.

Instead of hurrying up to read the students list, he stops on Ouma’s pouting profile and, for no reason at all, starts examining him like an important clue. The detective notices how he’s wearing a tiny checkered clip in his ear, how the color of his hair gets brighter and fresher at the tips, dyed in an uneven, chaotic manner as if he was doing that himself five minutes before going to class. Shuichi also pays attention to the badges and patches on his sleeve: some of them are random, like a grape “Panta” one, some of them are subtly LGBTQ-themed, some of them are referencing anime shows he’s personally not familiar with. It feels like there’s a lot to unpack. Like Ouma is another folder with case details, locked by a password that Shuichi is yet to figure out.

Why is this boy so annoying but so amusing to look at, to think about? Is he being like this on purpose? Questions never end.

Shrugging to himself, the detective tears his eyes away from the partner and gets back to the list of students. At first, he wants to find the name through a search bar but realizes he doesn’t know how it’s written. With a disappointed snort _(that Kokichi will hopefully ignore)_ , he starts scrolling down the list and reads each name, trying to find anything that might resemble Ouma Kokichi. He’s always been quite attentive, so it doesn’t take him too long to finish it.

There’s no such name on the list. Shuichi reads it again but reaches the same conclusion. He doesn’t know if he’s even surprised, at this point.

His eyes lock on Kokichi. So, what is this stranger doing here, sneakily trying to change the wallpaper with a comically overconcentrated face, tapping his small fingers on their desk?

_“We’re in psychology class, are we not? Training to be the best therapists alive, no less!”_

Saihara might already know the answer to that. No matter how ridiculous it sounds.

“Ouma-kun,” he calls out, making the other turn around and give him a questioning look.

“Sup? I did what you told me to, see?” he smiles widely like a child, revealing all his teeth. “Am I a good partner yet?”

Is he ruining the atmosphere on purpose with this sudden cheerfulness? Shuichi takes a deep breath, then locks his eyes on Kokichi’s.

“You’re not supposed to be in this class, are you?”

He feels both satisfied and worried to watch his partner change in the face, dropping the smile and raising his hands defensively, blinking at the detective with shock. Small tears start gathering on his bottom eyelashes, looking like broken glass pieces scattered all around his eyes.

Wait, _tears?_

“Wha– What are you saying?” Ouma sobs loudly and starts biting his shivering lip. “Do you already hate me that much, Saihara-chan?”

The said boy is more than confused– no, he’s absolutely terrified because he literally made a guy cry. He hates seeing innocent people in tears, but being the reason for that? It truly shows how bad Shuichi is at communications. His heart nearly gets shattered into hundred pieces as he watches Kokichi’s face distort, wet streaks making his cheeks gloss.

“No, that’s not what I meant–”

“Do you think I’m so incompetent that I shouldn’t be in this class?” the crying boy just continues his rant, and he does it so fast that there’s no room for Shuichi to chime in. “Do you think I’m stupid just because I don’t have any books on me? Or is it because I played a staring game with you before introducing myself? Or is it because of my cute babyface? You really hate children, don’t you?”

An unexpected pause follows the last question, and it’s said so loud that everyone around them turns their heads towards the sound and give the boys funny looks. Shuichi gets distracted from Ouma’s crying face to meet his mates’ judging eyes; he feels his cheeks burning from second-hand embarrassment.

“Why did you bring up _children_ all of a–”

He gets interrupted by a familiar snickering. When he turns back to Kokichi, his face already looks normal, with no signs of the tantrum. He’s wearing a wide grin, as always, and his gaze is glowing as bright as a clear night sky full of stars.

“How exciting! You’re right, I’m not supposed to be here!”

Who the hell did Shuichi get paired with.

_For his final project._

Even though he’s basically at a loss of words, his mouth soon moves on its own: “How did this happen?”

Some people are still gawking at them, so they have to move closer to each other and whisper; it now feels like a secret undercover mission portrayed in some absurd comedy movie. Shuichi can’t see Kokichi’s smile anymore, and his body tenses up both visibly and sensibly.

“You’re the detective here, figure it out yourself!” the shorter boy hisses. “I bet it’s a piece of cake for someone like you, especially with the hints I dropped.”

“Well, I assume you were supposed to be in the _psychology_ class? But ended up here somehow?” Saihara can feel the smell of grape soda surrounding and embracing him. “You also managed to sit through the entire thing without noticing _anything_ wrong?”

The more he thinks about it, the stranger it seems. Could it be a silly prank? Ouma does look like the type to do such things just for the thrill of it. And yet…

“Of course I didn’t notice anything! I was playing “Animal Crossing”! Why do you think I chose to sit in the back?”

For some reason, it doesn’t sound like a lie. Shuichi cocks his head in question.

“Why did you come here in the first place?”

“I forgot where I was supposed to go, I just got out of the hospital after lying there for months with amnesia!”

“I don’t understand why you keep telling me such obvious lies, Ouma-kun.” Not caring about how close they are to each other right now, Shuichi turns to find the other’s eyes, immediately greeted with the same snide smile. “If you really were just out of the hospital, the university would provide you an individual curriculum so you could catch up on your studies. You wouldn’t be here then.”

A playful _nishishi_ tickles his nose like a feather. “Saihara-chan surely knows a lot about these circumstances! I hope you didn’t find out from experience.”

“Don’t change the subject, please.”

Could this guy suffer from compulsive lying problems or something? Most likely, yes, but in Ouma’s case he’s probably learned to enjoy it, Saihara thinks. Many questions are still left unanswered, and he figures it may take him longer than this 15 minutes to solve all of them. Even the actual case they have to work on isn’t as intriguing as this mystery.

“Well, I’ll give you another hint, detective,” Ouma winks at him. “I toootally didn’t overhear random people talking about psychology in the hallway and follow them all the way here.”

Shuichi gasps. “You did _what_?”

This story sounds so made up that it gets surprisingly believable. Besides, if this poor thing had to eavesdrop on a random conversation just to find his potential class, it could mean…

“Ouma-kun, have you come here for the first time?”

_And even though it’s crazy, it’s stupid, even though it’s almost the end of this semester,_ Kokichi makes puppy eyes and whispers an exaggeratedly embarrassed “yes” in response.

“You know, I don’t see the point in going here,” he mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. His smile starts to feel a bit strained. “They’re teaching me things I already know, and everything is so boring that I could literally die.”

He seems to hate boredom, Shuichi notes to himself. His reasons sound incomprehensible and frivolous, but these words carry a certain heaviness with them, thickening the cold air.

“Why did you come here now, then?”

“I got a love letter!” Kokichi’s eyes shoot stars in all directions. “My psychology professor missed me sooo much that I felt bad for her and decided to come! She promised to give me all sorts of benefits if I paid her a visit – you know, since I’m her favorite student!”

Everything finally starts to fall into place. It’s satisfying, like putting down the last pieces of a big puzzle and finishing a gorgeous picture.

“So you got like… a warning. I see.”

For some reason, Shuichi’s heart skips a beat when the other laughs at him quietly. “Saihara-chan understands me so well! You’re probably having fun pulling the lies out of me!”

“I’m just trying to make peace with the fact that my project partner doesn’t really exist,” Saihara lets out a chuckle as well. Unlike Ouma’s, this one sounds rather hopeless. His mouth speaks again before his mind can process it: “But at least I got to meet such a weird person like you. I-I mean weird in a good way, of course.”

_God, why did he have to add that._ The detective’s cheeks flush again, and he wishes he had a cap on to hide under it.

Kokichi, on the other hand, smiles wider; he seems genuinely pleased for once. “Oh, why would I not exist? I’m very much real, and I even opened the case folder for you.”

“Well, yeah, but we’ll have to part ways in less than 10 minutes,” Shuichi sighs. “Ah, but don’t worry about it. I’ll handle the project alone. I’ve been here plenty of times before.”

Now that there’s so little time left, he suddenly starts to feel sad about it. Even though Ouma’s presence has been nothing but an overwhelming rollercoaster of emotions and strange exchanges so far, he feels as though he just took a cold refreshing shower or went to exercise with his friends at the gym. It was a good change of pace, meeting such a colorful person and learning his absurd story, to some extent.

A small hand pats him on the shoulder, waking him up from this sudden melancholia. “You didn’t get me this time, Saihara-chan,” Ouma is staring at him as intensely as when they first started talking, his smirk growing wider each second. “I’m not exactly a noob in criminal psychology. Why would I want to part ways with you if we have such a _not-so-boring_ task to do?”

Huh?

Shuichi goggles at him with his mouth wide open. He tries to see through Kokichi’s doll-like expression, to notice a mocking spark in his playful purple eyes, to sense an upcoming revelation that it was yet another lie, but to no avail. The terrifyingly static smile that decorates his unchanging face is lit up with anticipation. He reminds Shuichi of a robot that is patiently waiting for its owner’s next command.

Why does he want to stay? No normal person would agree to work on such a difficult project for nothing, especially under these unusual circumstances.

“Is this another lie?” Shuichi asks cautiously, keeping his watch on the other guy’s visage.

“Nope!” comes an immediate reply. “I’m super-duper serious!”

Surely, a normal person would politely decline something like that. But Ouma seems to be far from normal, which is both worrying and amusing.

“Let’s crack this case together like a golden detective duo!” he clenches his fists and shakes them with a childish thrill, gaze filled with joy, legs bouncing faster than tennis balls. “We can’t let the teacher’s pet Saihara-chan botch his final project, _riiiight?_ ”

Shuichi gives him a stern glare. “I’m not a teacher’s pet,” he mumbles. “But… I’m just curious why you still want to do this, even though you probably have enough work on your own.”

A small finger lands smoothly on his nose. The touch brings warmth to his cold skin, but this warmth freezes Shuichi, having caught him off guard. Ouma moves closer with a stare worthy of a predator who just caught their prey. The detective’s confused and flustered expression is reflected in his eyes, so big when up close that they could work as two pretty purple mirrors.

“Don’t get too full of yourself, though,” Kokichi breathes out. “I’m just helping you ‘coz you’re cute and seem useful, okay?”

He makes the softest face possible, so soft that it’s easy to tell it’s fake, closing his eyes and lifting his shoulders. Shuichi would never react positively to a fake expression, but his cheeks burn harder when the other’s smirk quickly shifts into a friendly smile.

“Useful? _Cute?”_

“Ugly. Anywho,” the kind face disappears, and the purple-haired boy swirls back to the laptop with the speed of light. “What’s up with this case? We have less than 5 minutes to do something. Come on, chop-chop!”

Oh, right. They were supposed to spend this time productively. Shuichi quickly shakes off all unnecessary feelings and emotions like a dog after a bath, then moves closer to his partner and, giving him a short nod, opens the case summary.

His struggles don't end there. The first seconds of actually working on the project already seem to be the very premonitions of a total disaster. Shuichi would be glad to fully concentrate on the case, to distance himself from the whole world – the things he does all the time once he starts assignments – but the faint smell of grape soda sweetening the air becomes his worst distraction. As if just knowing that Ouma’s here, just _sensing_ his presence vividly messes up the whole process. As if he’s a walking _“You may not rest now, there are monsters nearby”_ notification. After a minute passes, Shuichi finds himself re-reading the very first sentence of the summary with an empty head.

Why does he get like this around this guy? He should stop this stupidity as soon as possible. The young detective lets out a sigh and reads the text again.

This whole day turned out to be full of absurd things as if life has suddenly decided to completely switch its direction and atmosphere. Even the case is weird. Early in the morning, a man was eaten by piranhas in a water tank during his niece’s performance that was being watched by her father, who appeared to be the victim’s younger brother, the family maid, and two of the girl’s friends from school. It sounds more like a headliner story from some magazine, with bits of fiction included for the shock effect.

Shuichi is about to move on to the evidence list when Kokichi’s voice makes him wince.

“It’s the magician girl,” he throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes, acting like he just stated the most obvious fact. “I did it, I solved the case.”

“That’s not exactly how it works, Ouma-kun,” Shuichi sighs, watching him bounce on his seat lightly. “Besides, what could be her motive?”

Purple eyes laugh silently, complementing the never-disappearing smirk on Ouma’s pale face. “She didn’t like her Uncle, duh! She probably thought _“Damn, this man sucks! My Dad’s way cooler!”_ and fed him to piranhas. _Or_ it could be the maid! They’re always evil in the manga.”

That’s the most bizarre thing Saihara’s ever heard, but it makes him smile and loosen the sudden pressure in his body for a bit. He wonders if his partner is just messing with him or trying to cover up his inability to work with such cases. Either way, it’s such a better start to a project than hearing the other teammates splitting their responsibilities lazily, leaving everything important and difficult to him alone with a polite apology. Even if Ouma doesn’t have enough skills and knowledge to help Shuichi with mental work, he will still be useful in one way or another. They’re working together, and that’s already nice, the detective reassures himself.

That is, if he turns out to be a reliable person.

Saihara skims through the evidence list right before Mr. Kirigiri raises his hand and notifies the audience that the class is officially over. Students pour outside the auditorium rather quickly, talking excitedly to each other about the cases they got, and Shuichi, as well as his colleague, decides to follow their example. If they stay here for too long, the professor might question Ouma about where he even came from, which may lead to a disaster.

As soon as they get into the hallway, Kokichi spends a few seconds just looking around, seemingly trying to find people from his major, then switches his attention back to Saihara. His limbs keep twitching and moving, his body gets visibly tenser each minute; Shuichi realizes he must be in a hurry, waiting until they part ways so he can look for his real groupmates and make it to the next class.

“Well, now that we’re official partners in crime, we should meet every day after classes!” he commands, pointing his finger in the air. “When are you usually free?”

Meeting every day? If it means that Saihara will have to deal with this boy’s annoying antics, constant lies, questionable jokes, and his sweet grape soda smell on a daily basis...

“I finish at 3 pm mostly,” the detective replies, then gives the other a reassuring but shy smile. “If you’re really okay with meeting every day, I don’t mind, either. That way we’ll finish it much faster, and you’ll be free from me then.”

Kokichi’s eyes light up like matches on fire, and he flashes one last signature grin of his before turning away.

“You’re wrong, detective. _You’ll_ be free from _me!_ ” his voice rings through the hallway like a school bell, catching other peoples’ attention. “See ya later today, Saihara-chan!”

Shuichi feels like an idiot, standing in the middle of the room and smiling, but he can't make his lips straighten back. Even after he turns around and leaves, too, he keeps the same face for a little longer without realizing it. 

Thus, the most interesting two weeks in Shuichi’s university life have begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this was a mess. I'm finishing the next chapter rn and I hope it's gonna look better


	2. Partners in solving crimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my teachers once told us how cold nights can get in Japan. That story inspired this chapter basically
> 
> It turned out very long oof!! I really hope you don't get bored while reading. If it is indeed boring or just weird, please tell me so! I'll work on it a little more, then.
> 
> By the way, I'm probably gonna take a few weeks off to concentrate on the studies and finish my assignments, so I apologize in advance for making you wait long until the next chapter! I'm not sure when it's gonna come out, but I'll definitely write it as soon as I get a chance to. It's one of my favorites and I can't wait to finally get down to it! 
> 
> Once again, thank you for taking your time to read my fic! <3

Their first meeting takes place in the library, but they get kicked out for making too much noise in an hour. What’s worse, by that time they still haven’t even begun working on the case properly.

Shuichi brought coffee, so Ouma pointed that out, starting a whole discussion about their favorite drinks and how disgustingly bitter coffee tasted to him. He said he liked tea and grape “Panta”, then casually mentioned that his _secret evil organization_ had a tradition to hold tea breaks every day – that instigated a heated discussion and lead to them leaving the library, embarrassed. Saihara tried to ask genuine questions about that weird organization, but his colleague spat so much nonsense in response that it quickly became irritating to listen to him. It was clear that Kokichi was lying.

But seriously, was that lie intentional? Ouma probably knew such a thing would immediately pique the detective’s interest and used it to distract both of them from work. For a few minutes, Shuichi is seriously considering pushing this guy away and finishing this goddamn project alone.

They find a small empty auditorium and move into there. From then, the process suddenly speeds up; both of them get a wave of concentration out of nowhere and start solving the case together, highlighting important clues, commenting on the videos, trying to deduce the details that Mr. Kirigiri removed.

When Kokichi loses his interest in trying to impress Shuichi, he’s surprisingly comfortable to work with. It feels like his messy purple head is always filled with elaborate ideas that change and evolve every minute. Although they don’t always fit the reality of the case, most of them being trivial, Saihara notices that he often thinks strategically and reaches logical conclusions through unusual lines of reasoning.

Sometimes Ouma mocks the witnesses or cracks jokes – stupid, inappropriate, childish – and never fails to make Shuichi’s lips twitch in a shy smile. Sometimes he starts tapping on the desk persistently until Shuichi does the same, and they hold a non-verbal contest of who can tap the loudest and the fastest. Sometimes the detective gets a little carried away, starting a monologue over a tiny clue, just thinking out loud, and Kokichi stops whatever he’s doing to rest his head on the desk and listen, lazily playing with the patches on his jacket. When Shuichi wakes up and apologizes with a guilty smile, Ouma says he’s the most boring person on the planet but smiles back.

After a while, he runs off to the local coffee shop and brings his partner a cup of coffee, only to reveal that it is, in fact, a milkshake as soon as Shuichi takes the first sip. He learns the hard way that “mister Long Eyelashes” doesn’t like sweets that much. Saihara never figures out whether it was an attempt to be genuinely kind or an intentional prank, but something tells him the second answer is the correct one.

They spend the whole evening in that auditorium until an old janitor suddenly appears near them, praising modern kids for studying so hard. Shuichi realizes it’s dark outside, and the clock on the wall shows almost 10 pm; he could swear it’s only been no longer than two hours since they came here. Somehow his notebook is filled with four pages of clues, remarks, comments, and silly doodles, and three out of ten videos are ticked as watched.

Ouma _yoinks_ the printed-out list of witnesses from the other’s grasp and waves him goodbye. They agree to meet tomorrow at the same time and place, and later at night, while reviewing the notes, Saihara finds Kokichi’s online ID and social media nicknames among one of the doodles he drew.

**_Saihara Shuichi:_** _“SupremeLeader69420”?... Seriously?_

 **_SupremeLeader69420:_ ** _hi cutie <3 _

They start texting each other. Shuichi doesn’t like texting too much and for too long whereas Kokichi never stops sending him questionable memes or random questions throughout the day. The detective tries hard to concentrate in class, but still answers every _“what’s your favorite color?”_ and _“if you were on an island with talking animals, would you go to a nightclub called Titty Typhoon?”_ as if it’s a serious survey made by government officials.

They meet again; Shuichi asks Ouma about his day, and Ouma, mumbling something about his _“secret organization”_ again, returns the list of witnesses. It’s all covered in drawings of fish, mostly piranhas, and each name has a unique comment added to them with a grape-colored marker.

LIST OF WITNESSES:

Yumeno Hiroki, 38 – Yumeno Himiko’s father, the victim’s younger brother. Was present at the show. **WAS SET UP >:(**

Yumeno Himiko, 15 – the victim’s niece, Yumeno Hiroki’s only child. Was the one performing the trick that presumably led to the victim’s death. **REAL CULPRIT!!!!!**

Yonaga Angie, 16 – Yumeno Himiko’s friend. Was present at the show. Claimed to have suggested the trick. **CULT LEADER???**

Toujo Kirumi, 25 – the family housemaid, has served the Yumeno household for almost 7 years. Was present at the show. Claimed to have helped with decorations. **SUS**

Chabashira Tenko, 17 – Yumeno Himiko’s friend. Was present at the show. Claimed to have helped with moving heavy objects to the room where the event took place. **GAY 4 YUMENO-CHAN <3**

“Ouma-kun, this is...”

“My professional psychoanalysis, yes. I hope you’re impressed!”

Shuichi laughs it off awkwardly.

By the end of the first week, they end up in an actual debate that escalates into a fight. Ouma picks at one of Himiko’s answers and starts acting ridiculously stupid, then suddenly switches to blaming the maid. He doesn’t have any decisive proof, and he fails to convince Shuichi, who’s read way too many criminal psychology books to trust first impressions that quickly, and it makes him mad and puts him on edge and activates that Kokichi who thrashes around restlessly, making a mess everywhere.

They fight. Saihara has to deal with the other’s endless lies that he’s shooting faster than bullets from a machine gun at every statement, in all directions. The meeting ends early as Shuichi leaves the room, being completely pissed off. He hasn’t been _angry_ for a while, maybe for months, even, and this feeling of rage boiling his blood and blurring his vision almost scares him. It changes into guilt out of nowhere after a couple of hours, so he has to hold back a sudden urge to text his annoying partner a pitiful “Sorry”.

Fate takes Ouma’s side and begins pulling pranks on Shuichi, for sure. They meet again on the next day, in the evening. In the café line, to be precise. The detective wants to buy black coffee, but Kokichi pushes him away from the cashier’s desk and buys them tea. He says that drinking coffee so late in the evening is dumb and worth being sent to prison for. Shuichi has no other choice but to agree. They continue working on the case together while enjoying freshly made tea, and it doesn’t seem too bad of a substitute for a cup of coffee. Neither of them apologizes for the emotional outburst from earlier.

On Saturday night, they both text each other without a solid reason and start a random conversation again. Shuichi feels like he doesn’t know a single thing about his partner, even though they’ve been working together for almost a week already. His mental portrait of Ouma mostly consists of his own guesses and deductions based on his behavior and tiny details he could fish out in the sea of his lies. It’s black-and-white and messy, more like a quick sketch.

Because of that, he tries asking Kokichi questions about his life – his past, his friends, his major _(even that remains a mystery)_. None of them get answered. As much as Shuichi is ready to close the chat with a disappointed sigh, he suggests playing “two truths and a lie” as his last resort.

**_SupremeLeader69420:_ ** _ur finally starting to get me Saihara-chan!! lets play 2 lies and 1 truth to make this game more exciting >:)_

 **_Saihara Shuichi:_ ** _you promise you won’t just be telling me 3 fake facts each round?_

 **_SupremeLeader69420:_ ** _ur such a meanie!! theres nothing more boring than an unfair game!!!_

His facts never get more serious than favorite meals or most-hated fictional characters, so Shuichi doesn’t go too far with his, either. Their light-hearted guessing game lasts for hours, and even though they don’t make any big revelations about themselves, it keeps them fully engaged. They still find out something new about each other in every round, and it still brings them somewhat closer.

Now Saihara knows that Kokichi likes cats, carbonated drinks, sweet and spicy foods, and comedy movies because they ease his mind, or that he hates pig feet _(that’s specific)_ and bugs. He’s been playing videogames his entire life and never wants to stop. He claims to be skilled at picking locks and stealing prized possessions. His favorite university subject is world domination. He loves chess, which makes Shuichi very happy since he’s been dreaming about having a partner to play with for a while.

Just like that, the black-and-white mental portrait of Ouma has eventually gained some colors and emotions put into it.

Their conversation ends when Shuichi notices it’s almost 5 am. A sudden wave of sleepiness takes over his body as if it’s been waiting for this exact moment, and he has to stop his companion. However, before going offline, Ouma finishes their exchange with messages that wipe all tiredness away, and the detective stays up for another hour, reading them over and over and cooling his burning cheeks with his always-cold hands.

**_SupremeLeader69420:_** _alright then! gn Sherlock!!!_

 **_SupremeLeader69420:_ ** _im so glad i met someone who can truly understand me…_

 **_SupremeLeader69420:_ ** _wow. maybe i was born into this world just to meet you, Saihara-chan!_

***

“…So that’s everything that happened to me during the last week and a half.”

“Wow, Saihara-kun! What an interesting turn of events!”

One of Shuichi’s favorite free-time activities is spending a few hours at a café with his close _(and only)_ friends from high school, discussing the latest news and seeing their familiar smiles again.

Akamatsu takes a long, shocked sip of her XXL milkshake and gives a questioning glance to Momota, who’s still staring at his friend with his mouth open. He’s been gasping unstoppably ever since Shuichi revealed who his partner turned out to be.

“And he– he seriously agreed?” he slams his strong hands on the coffee table, making their phones bounce for a second and almost spilling the drinks. “And you’re working together now? I mean, working for real, no joke?”

Shuichi feels awkward. Now that he’s told this whole crazy story about Ouma, it sounds even more bizarre to him. He has gotten used to it already, of course, but he can’t imagine how it feels for his friends to hear all of this.

“Well, yeah,” he shyly scratches his neck. “We’ve made good progress, actually. He might act dumb on purpose sometimes, or throw random accusations, but he’s… good at spotting contradictions or lies. Sometimes he’s better at thinking like a criminal than I do. Because of that, we’re almost finished already.”

“How are you guys gonna present the project, though?” Momota asks.

“We agreed that I will do it alone. I’ll say he never came to the presentation and never reached out to me, so I did everything by myself,” Saihara explains. “I didn’t like the idea, but... We don’t know what the professor would do if he found out who Ouma-kun truly was, so I shouldn’t risk it.”

The plan is clever and safe, but it still pains him to realize that Kokichi’s hard work won’t be acknowledged by anyone except him. He tries not to focus on it too much.

“That sounds much better than everything you usually go through in group projects!” Kaede smiles. She looks genuinely pleased. “You finally have a partner to equally share your work with. And the fact that he agreed to help you even though he’s from a different major!...”

Kaito grabs his smoothie and starts fiddling with the plastic cup. “He sounded like an annoying guy when you were talking about his behavior,” he hums. “But I guess he’s a good temporary sidekick.”

Temporary sidekick… Shuichi almost forgot that he and Ouma are only bound together for two weeks, and there’s a high chance that they will never have to work alongside each other again. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but something sharp and tiny pricks his heart, making it stop for a moment.

Akamatsu’s shining eyes catch his lost gaze. “I think you guys should stay friends after you finish the project! And you should definitely introduce him to us soon.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while since you told us about anyone!” Momota nods enthusiastically. “I’m curious to see what this Ouma-kun is all about.”

“W-why would I do that?!” Shuichi feels blood rushing to his head, heating his cheeks and making his forehead sweat. “You sound like you’re my parents and Ouma-kun is my fiancé or something.”

“Well, you looked so excited when you were talking about him,” Kaede laughs, which makes him blush even more. “But jokes aside, we’re just happy to see you like this. New friends of yours can be our friends too!”

“That’s right! I’m always happy to accept new sidekicks!”

Saihara feels more and more overwhelmed with each second. It’s been a while since he was the center of attention in his little friend group. They usually discuss Akamatsu’s new music or Momota’s crazy stories from his space training, sometimes mixing in some gossip about their classmates. Shuichi rarely has something to add, and he never minds it. He loves listening to his friends talking passionately about stuff. That’s why it’s so uncomfortable for him to talk about himself too much, like right now.

He suddenly remembers the night he played “two lies and one truth” with Ouma and gets surprised by the fact he didn’t feel mentally drained after such a long and revealing conversation. Well, it was a game after all, and they did that online, through text…

But then he also remembers how they went to play chess on Sunday and stayed at the venue for almost 8 hours, never shutting up. The game ended with an unsatisfying tie because neither of them could fully concentrate on it. However, even after that, he felt relatively fine; when he came home, he turned on his favorite music and spent the whole evening cleaning up and singing to himself. That was a weird energy boost.

Or that one time, probably on Tuesday, when Shuichi had an awful migraine and couldn’t watch the videos for too long. Ouma suggested to take a break and play some weird card game that he came up with himself. Although he kept tricking the detective and changing the rules for his convenience, the migraine eased after a little while, and they could get back to work.

Or when…

Has Shuichi ever felt _drained_ after spending time with such an overwhelming person? Playful, maybe. Confused, definitely. Lost. Understood. Amused. Pissed off. Worried. Relaxed.

But never drained?

Another figure sits down next to Momota. Saihara blinks away off-topic thoughts and raises his eyes to where the new person appeared. He notices how Kaito perks up, his smile growing wider, and how Kaede drops her drink to wave.

“Harukawa-chan! You came!”

Harukawa is the same as Shuichi. Being in the spotlight is not her thing as well, so she shyly fixes her long twin-tail and glues her ruby eyes to the floor.

“Sorry I’m late,” she explains in her usual cold, quiet voice. “Training lasted longer than I expected.”

“No worries, Harumaki!” Momota casually wraps his hand around her shoulders, simultaneously fixing the collar of her red shirt; the girl freezes but subtly leans towards the touch. “You just missed Saihara-kun telling a story about his interesting sidekick, but I’ll recap it for you later!”

Kaito always gets awfully clumsy and coy around her. It makes Maki even more flustered, to the point that she might give up and even bless everyone with a smile or a joke sometimes. Ever since high school, Saihara and Kaede have been encouraging both of them to ask each other out, but something always goes wrong. Nevertheless, they stick together like magnets every time they meet, and Shuichi finds it cute. As those two start chatting quietly, already absorbed by each other, the detective and his friend exchange Meaningful Looks and silently agree not to disturb them.

Akamatsu moves a little closer to Shuichi. “By the way, we had a suggestion for you,” she announces in a hushed tone. Her plum eyes glow with excited anticipation; it sort of reminds Shuichi of how Ouma would always look at him, waiting for his partner to figure him out. He’s not sure why, but this memory sends a light wave of chills down his spine.

“What is it?”

“So…” Kaede takes a short pause, probably choosing the right words. “We know you don’t really like parties, but my friend from the student council, Maizono-san, is holding one this Saturday at her place, and she asked me to invite some of my classmates. She wants to make this a reunion party for people from our school or something like that… though I’m sure there are gonna be some strangers, too.”

Oh no. Shuichi doesn’t like such parties. Held by popular people in their big houses, with a lot of guests, alcohol, loud pop music shaking the walls, and no fun activities aside from chatting unstoppably with anyone you bump into. The atmosphere is too dizzy, too foreign for him; he prefers small gatherings with people he’s close with, like right now, because they at least make some sense. Meeting a hundred people he’s never-ever interacted with sounds dull and useless.

But the glare Akamatsu gives him plants a seed of doubt in his determined mind. She has the charm to bring people together, no matter how introverted or sociopathic they may be. If she had a piano, she would be absolutely invincible. She’d play a calming song and make everyone in the room forget about all their worries and fears, perform a brainwashing ritual, command everyone to get along.

Either way, she’s too powerful. Shuichi can’t just say a cold “No, sorry” to her face. There’s nothing worse than seeing her cheerful smile fade and her kind eyes lose their glow.

“I, um…” his hand desperately searches for a cap to cover his face, only to remind him that he doesn’t wear it anymore. “I don’t really know. I’d be glad to come, but this project…”

Sadly, Momota overhears their conversation and decides to chime in. This double attack is surely something Saihara won’t be able to stand against.

“Hold on soul bro!” Kaito stretches out his hand to grab the detective by his jacket. “What am I hearing? You’re not going to the party? Everyone else is going!”

“I’m not going,” Harukawa mutters, giving him a deadly look.

“Everyone except Harumaki _because she has a very intense training routine this month!_ ” the astronaut quickly recovers. “Come on, you just found a new person to hang out with! How about you go fully sociable for the end of November?”

“I can’t do that,” Shuichi smiles meekly, averting his eyes. “I found Ouma-kun because we were forced to communicate and work together, that’s all. Besides, as I said, I have a very serious project to finish.”

Now Kaede exchanges Meaningful Looks with Momota, and the latter gives her thumbs-up under the table that’s impossible not to notice. The pianist sighs with a short giggle.

“Saihara-kun, we won’t force you to come,” she says, voice gentle, “but we’ll be very happy if you do. Watching you talk so excitedly about your new acquaintance made me realize that you might be feeling… _lonely_.”

Lonely?...

Shuichi raises his eyebrows and stops whatever he was doing, staring at his friend. His heart, his breath, and all his thoughts freeze too.

_Lonely…_ This word sounds like an old classmate with whom he’s never interacted. Like a song from his childhood that he obviously forgot. Like his parents who last texted him before graduation, asking how much money he needed for his prom outfit and which university he picked. It’s familiar and it hurts, but only a little, same as a bad habit that you get used to over time.

He pictures himself sitting in class, being a stranger to his own study group, to everyone who’s majoring in the same field, always left out. Then, without any reason, he imagines Ouma in the same position: sitting at the very back of the auditorium, unaware that he’s in the wrong class with the wrong people, being awfully bored and utterly disappointed. It shakes him lightly like a cold wind; the detective wants to wrap his arms around himself or put on a warm coat.

Ouma is certainly lonely, but what about him? Shouldn’t he be focusing more on his studies instead?

Akamatsu touches his shoulder reassuringly. “You keep burying yourself in work. It feels like you’re trying to run away from this feeling, but it won’t go away so easily. That’s why we thought that, even though you don’t like parties, it could be a nice change of pace for you. At least this once, before finals start and we lose you for another month.”

Again, without a reason or a proper explanation, Saihara feels his eyes getting watery. He quickly blinks the tears away before any of his friends notice, but it leaves a gloomy, sour aftertaste that he can’t get rid of.

“She’s got a point,” Harukawa suddenly says, making everyone flinch and turn to her. She rarely comments on things that aren’t directed at her. “You do seem lonely, Saihara-kun. I hate parties just as much as you do, but I think you could use a distraction before exams.”

Kaito’s eyes light up proudly. “That’s right! Besides, if you don’t like how it goes, you can always leave! No one will force you to stay until the very end and communicate with every guest.”

Their supporting words ease tension in Shuichi’s body. They’re not wrong. He can always leave if he wants to. And it’s true that, when exams begin, he basically stops existing for the outside world, fully absorbed by studies.

“Thank you,” the detective chuckles nervously, scratching his neck again. “If I manage to finish the project by Saturday, I’ll come.”

His friends gasp happily and start cheering for him like he just won a big competition. They’re probably annoying other customers, but none of them seem to mind, and neither does Shuichi.

“I’m positive your partner will help you finish it sooner!” Akamatsu assures. Momota mimics her smile and gestures, making them ten times more intense, and pats his _soul bro_ on the back.

“You got this, detective!” he exclaims. “And yeah, you’re not alone in this one! Stop doing everything by yourself and trust your new partner, okay?”

The mood switches so fast as if someone turned the lights on. That heavy feeling of loneliness melts in smiles full of warmth and support, and it’s easier to breathe. Shuichi loves hanging out with his friends every once in a while.

He should probably do it more often after exams.

***

By the time he gets home, it strikes him that today is Thursday, and he has little time left if he wants to go to the party. It’s weird that he hasn’t been paying attention to time up until now, but again, these days his mind’s been preoccupied with a certain purple-haired individual who never fails to attract his attention.

Speaking of which. Shuichi needs to contact him as soon as possible and explain the situation. He doesn’t want to put too much pressure on his partner, who’s literally from a different major and must be having a lot of troubles to deal with on his own right now. Maybe they could agree on the culprit, then divide other tasks, quickly write the presentation text, and… Saihara lets out a shaky sigh. No matter how he looks at it, it seems like a lot of work.

It was probably careless and inconsiderate of him to agree to go to that party. He can’t even try and predict how Ouma would react to this.

_“What a pain”_ , just like disappointed Yumeno Himiko kept saying on her interrogation video.

After a few minutes, Shuichi is already sitting on his couch, surrounded by criminal psychology books, his notes, and a laptop, ready to call his partner and explain the situation. The more he thinks about it, the more he just wants to scrap the idea and stay at home for the whole weekend. It’s just ridiculous. He has a huge responsibility on his shoulders. He can’t let Mr. Kirigiri and Kokichi down.

_“You keep burying yourself in work. It feels like you’re trying to run away from this feeling, but it won’t go away so easily.”_

A gentle reminder, voiced by Akamatsu, rings in his head.

Lonely… Is he even lonely or simply _alone?_ Does he mind that? Does it affect him in any way?

He stares at Ouma’s number, feeling emptier than usual. Static fills his usually busy mind. From the screen, Ouma’s picture stares back; he doesn’t even remember when and under what circumstances he screenshotted one of his photos and attached it to his contact. A bright, wide smile, probably fake, still appealing. Violet locks curling in all possible directions. Random stickers glued to his pale cheeks. Purple eyes, deep and round, shining even through the camera and, most likely, a few filters, too. Looking at him like that…

Makes Shuichi realize Kaede could’ve been right. There’s no other explanation for why he can’t stop staring at the photo, why the familiar sweet scent of grape “Panta” embraces him out of nowhere, why a sudden urge to see Kokichi’s small fingers tapping a desk gets stuck somewhere in Shuichi’s chest.

As well as a desire to hear his voice. Right now, at this exact moment, with no delays. Trying not to hesitate anymore, he presses the “Call” button and slaps the phone against his cheek, as if waking himself up from losing consciousness.

It doesn’t take long for Kokichi to answer. Monotonous beeping quickly changes to chatter in the background.

“Hello, welcome to the biggest adult manga & anime online shop!” Ouma’s voice cuts through all sounds, cheerful and mischievous as always. “If I recall, you’ve just purchased a copy of “King of pleas–”

“I’m sorry, Mom is coming to my room. Can we just pretend we’re working on a project for now?”

Shuichi gets surprised by his own response and by the way his lips curve in a small smile the second after the call starts. It feels like the static and white noise got flushed out of his head in an instant, supplanted by the same playfulness his colleague always expresses. His mood changes on its own.

“Well done, Saihara-chan!” Kokichi laughs, and each sound of it makes Saihara’s whole body feel lighter, sending pleasant electric signals down his limbs and relaxing them. “That was a smooth response!”

Before either of them can continue the conversation, another voice appears somewhere in the back, barely audible through the phone.

“Hey you little brat! Whatcha laughing at? Bring your non-existent ass over here and help me pick a dress already!”

Ouma’s disappointed sigh almost reaches Shuichi’s cheek. “I don’t listen to screeching pigs,” he replies, covering the speaker. His voice sounds more spiteful than usual. Maybe it’s just the phone, though. “By the way, in case you still haven’t noticed, I’m in the middle of something important.”

“More important than the _gorgeous girl genius?_ What is it, phone sex?” comes the sarcastic reply. Another sigh follows.

This is a little awkward. Shuichi feels like he’s interrupting something, and the worst part is that Kokichi will probably never admit it until he’s confronted about it. He tastes some bitterness on his tongue that he can’t quite explain; something about the fact that there’s a girl in the same room as Ouma, talking to him in such a free and vulgar manner, makes the detective frown. These two must be close, whoever they are.

Either that or they absolutely despise each other.

Kokichi returns to the call. “Living in a dorm is _amazing!_ ” he sings, the last word adding a passive-aggressive tone to the whole phrase. “Anyways, yeah, you kinda ditched me today and I’m scared that Girikiri-sensei is gonna kill us for not finishing the project on time.”

“It’s Kirigiri,” Shuichi can’t help but chortle. “And I’m sorry about all of this, I really am. You must be very busy now, and I’m shamelessly wasting your time.”

“It’s alright! Now that we meet every day, I attend _all_ my classes and confront _all_ my problems.”

The mysterious girl interrupts them again. She keeps calling Ouma over, probably just to annoy him at this point, and her nicknames get more and more elaborate until yet another voice joins this disharmonic background melody.

“Iruma-kun, if you move one more time, I’ll ruin your nails. Either by accident or on purpose.”

It’s calm, a bit quieter than the others, and it most likely belongs to another guy. Is Kokichi having a party in his dorm room or something? Did Shuichi call him in the middle of a gathering with his friends? A salty feeling of guilt brings back the numbness the detective just managed to get rid of.

“Hey, Ouma-kun,” he calls out shyly. “Is this a bad time? I’m sorry. I can call you later if you’re busy right now.”

Kokichi doesn’t answer immediately. The sounds in the background get more and more muffled as if someone covers them with multiple blankets; Shuichi wonders if his partner is trying to come up with a reply or just fighting with his guests. How awkward. That’s why he doesn’t like calling people. Why did he even do that in the first place?

“It’s about the project, right?” Ouma suddenly returns, along with a sound of a door closing. The noise fades away. “Do you want to finish it sooner?”

Oh, right. Shuichi almost forgot why he needed to make this call. His cheeks blush.

“Yeah…” he takes a short pause to choose the words cautiously. “I, uh, have to run errands this Saturday, and it could be nice if we managed to finish the project by tomorrow.”

How arrogant. Gosh. Kokichi will laugh at him for being so greedy, for sure.

“I mean, I know it’s very rude of me to ask, and I’ll completely understand if you can’t do that right now! You don’t have to push yourself, it’s not your responsibility, and besides, I think I interrupted something–”

Ouma doesn’t let him finish. “Jeez Saihara-chan! You could’ve just said you missed me, stop beating around the bush!”

It fleetly stops the anxious stream of thoughts and words pouring out of Saihara’s panicking head. The detective flinches on the couch.

“I…” he lets his instincts finish the sentence for him. “I might actually. Um. Miss you. So join me with the project when you have time, please?”

He hears a loud gasp _(or just a sigh?)_ at the end of the line.

“Wow, how honest!” Kokichi snickers. “I’ll be honest with you too, then! I can help you at any time, but I doubt it’s gonna be possible while those idiots are painting each other’s nails in my room and we have no privacy. It’s not like I _want_ to stay with them. I’d be glad to leave somewhere, but…”

But what? Detective intuition makes Shuichi glance at the nearest window. The weather is quite unpleasant, it seems: the wind bends the trees over, a drizzle blinks under dim streetlights, and it’s dark already. Neither he nor Ouma would want to go anywhere just to work on the project with the weather like this. That must be the case.

Still, they shouldn’t skip today’s evening. Saihara has classes that start at noon and finish pretty late tomorrow. With such low speed and a little time left, they definitely won’t be able to finish this until Saturday, or it’ll just be completed in a half-assed way…

A sudden idea hits him on the head like a shotput ball. He doesn’t even any have time to think it over before it breaks free from his tensed-up mind.

“Hey Ouma-kun,” the detective’s voice begins to falter and gets quieter. “How about you come over to my place? If, of course, you didn’t lie about wanting to leave your friends.”

Wait, he’s inviting Kokichi to his apartment? That’s the idea?

“I mean,” _wait,_ “I live alone,” _huh,_ “and it’s quiet here, and I can make us some tea,” _hold on,_ “and I have all books and notes we need, so we could...”

Is this really a good decision? Shuichi keeps surprising himself over and over again lately. It usually takes him weeks, _months_ to gather the courage and invite someone to hang out at his place. He gets paranoid over the smallest things, like how clean his apartment is or what kind of snacks there are left, and he always feels like an awful host.

Yet there he is. Jumping the gun.

The detective hears Ouma hum, loud and so long that it reminds him of beeping at the start of a phone call. It may be just Saihara’s imagination, but his partner sounds like he’s trying hard to hold back a satisfied grin.

“Saihara-chan wants to have me over so late, huh,” he murmurs. “Didn’t know you were the type to want something like that already. I must be _sooo_ irresistible!”

These comments don’t help at all.

“I don’t–”

A childishly excited scream almost makes Saihara yelp. “Yahoo! I haven’t visited anyone outside of dorms in, like, forever! Send me your address right now!”

Surprisingly easy, overwhelmingly unexpected. Despite every fiber of his being screaming _“DON’T DO IT”_ , following a strange foreign feeling that embraced his worried heart instead, the detective sends the address to his partner.

That’s exactly how Kokichi ends up in Shuichi’s apartment.

It doesn’t take him too long to appear at the front door, dressed in the same white jacket and the same purple sneakers he was wearing last Monday. As Saihara shyly shows him where to take the shoes off and offers a hanger, he looks around with eyes full of excitement, lips forming an adorable smile.

“I’m so lucky!” he exclaims. “Not only Saihara-chan is smart, but he also owns an apartment! Yes, _yes,_ you’re very useful!”

Although this remark sounds alarming and suspicious, Shuichi reassures himself that it’s just a silly joke.

“Well, I can’t say I own this apartment,” he bites his lip and subtly points at the couch for Kokichi to sit. “It was a birthday gift from my parents and uncle. So I could finally move out of the latter’s house, I guess.”

“Ah, right, you have rich parents and all that!”

Ouma launches at the sofa with the speed of a rocket ship and jumps right on it. The sound his small body makes when he lands is unrealistically loud; the detective prays he didn’t break the springs or anything else. It’s a miracle that none of the notes and books he left there ended up on the floor.

_Okay._ It’s okay. Shuichi tends to get nervous when someone else is around, but his partner’s carefree attitude somehow reduces his worries. It’s fine. They’re going to work on a project while enjoying some tea and snacks. He has a perfectly detailed plan for this hangout. _And his apartment is perfectly clean, too._

He takes a deep breath and finally moves away from the door. “I’ll make us some tea,” he announces, noticing how Ouma beams on the couch, smiling wider than Cheshire’s cat. “I, uh, also have cookies and salty crackers. If you want anything, just ask, okay?”

The other boy nods, then jumps back to his feet. “Wow, I feel so welcomed here! Mister detective is a nice host.”

Nice host. That’s a good start, isn’t it? Hoping it doesn’t turn out to be another one of his lies later, Shuichi squeezes out a smile in reply.

“It’s nothing. Feel yourself at home, Ouma-kun.”

Kokichi rarely does what he’s told but takes this particular suggestion to heart.

He starts walking around the small living room with a theatrical swagger, hands behind his back and lips pursed. While Shuichi is making them tea, the other boy stops in front of the wall with a few photographs hung on it, all kindly and beautifully arranged by Akamatsu, and hums with curiosity. Saihara doesn’t usually like how he looks in pictures, so his heart starts beating ten times faster when he sees his guest examining each one carefully. He wants to make some lame excuse or distract Ouma, but words get stuck in his sore throat. Gosh, he’s helpless.

“Wow! You look so ugly in pictures!” his partner laughs innocently. “Your smile is just the worst!”

All Shuichi can do is sigh.

“I won’t even convince myself you’re lying right now,” he mutters so quietly that it probably never reaches Kokichi. The purple-haired boy continues staring at the pictures, lightly touching them with his small fingers; Saihara only notices it now, but his nails are painted purple.

Looks cute.

He turns away to check the teapot, only to hear the other’s voice calling out to him again.

“What a boring-looking girl! Is this your girlfriend or something?”

_Girlfriend?_ Shuichi winces and looks at where the other boy is pointing, squinting his eyes to recognize the picture. Turns out Ouma is focused on the one that was taken back at high school with Kaede. Ignoring the fact that he looks awkward in it with his stupid hat on, Saihara lets out a chuckle.

“That’s not my girlfriend. That’s my old friend, Akamatsu-san. She’s a pianist.”

He gets back to preparing tea and searching for the snacks but feels the pair of curious purple eyes glued to him.

“Ooooh, an old friend,” Kokichi hums, his wide grin being audible. “Though I can tell she certainly has a thing for Saihara-chan! Look, she’s giving you heart eyes! Haven’t you noticed?”

Is that jealousy Saihara hears in his voice, lingering in-between overly exaggerated sneering? Probably not. It would be ridiculous.

“We’re close friends. She’s a lesbian, Ouma-kun.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence fills the room faster than the pleasing scent of the freshly made tea. Shuichi tries hard not to laugh, but his shaken-up temper fails him, and he bends over the cupboard, giggling quietly. He hearts Kokichi puffing in the distance.

“Come on, I was just messing with you!” the ashamed boy whines. “It was a joke! _Of course_ I knew she wasn’t straight, it’s– it’s written all over her face!”

Shuichi moves away from the kitchen space and puts the cups and the bowl of snacks on the table. The smile won’t leave his face.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. We used to deal with these assumptions a lot at school. Let’s just have some tea, shall we?”

He expects Kokichi to appear at the table immediately and quickly change the subject. To his surprise, the said boy keeps standing in front of the photos, still glaring at them. He looks like a dedicated exhibition visitor, trying to find the hidden meaning behind every picture. What could he possibly be staring at for so long? Many guesses fill Shuichi’s head in a matter of seconds, but none of them seem right. The detective slowly approaches his guest.

“Ouma-kun?”

Kokichi turns around rather calmly. “Hm?”

“Is anything wrong with the photos? You’ve been glaring at them for so long.”

They both glance at the pictures. Shuichi hasn’t looked at them in a while, especially at the ones with his parents or uncle. Even though they’ve always been right in front of him, they already feel forgotten and old, bringing hazy, blurry memories back.

“Um,” Kokichi pokes his own cheek with his finger, then points it at Shuichi’s mother. “I just recognized your mom. She’s an actress, right? I’ve seen her in a movie before.”

Ah, so _that_ was the reason. Saihara does get suspicious of it a little since his mother mostly plays in documentaries and historical dramas, which have been proclaimed as Ouma’s least favorite, most boring movie genres. Still, he doesn’t want to pursue this subject. Talking about his parents is never easy for him.

“I see,” he sighs heavily without realizing it. “So, um, if it’s okay, can we have some tea and get to work, please?”

He probably sounded a little desperate because Kokichi immediately turns around and nods to him enthusiastically, dropping the subject. They move to the table; the purple-haired boy sniffs his cup like a curious puppy and giggles with pleasure.

“Is this my favorite tea? The one I told you about back at the café?” he locks his eyes on Shuichi, his face glowing with joy. The detective hopes his happiness is genuine this time.

“Yeah, I bought it later on the same day. Tea isn’t exactly _my cup of tea_ , if you could say that,” a nervous chuckle escapes his lips and his cheeks slowly turn red, “but I really liked the taste of this one, so…”

The smaller foot gently pushes his shin under the table.

“My influence on you is unbelievable!” Ouma laughs delightfully. “Be careful, mister detective. You might shift to the dark side and end up joining my evil secret organization!”

He keeps mentioning it again and again, and Shuichi starts doubting his own conclusion about it being a joke. Of course, Kokichi is more than capable of elaborate, long-time pranks, but should he brush it off again? While they’re here, in his apartment, enjoying tea and laughing lightheartedly at each other, he can definitely find out more about his mysterious partner. Driven by this idea, he decides to take a step forward.

“Why would I join an organization that I don’t know anything about?”

Ouma grins; he must’ve picked up on what the detective is trying to achieve.

“What is it that Saihara-chan wants to know so badly?” he murmurs in a lower voice. “Which part of the “ _secret_ organization” did you not understand?”

“You keep mentioning it,” Shuichi rebuts. “If it were so secret, you wouldn’t let your tongue slip. Out of all people, you know how to keep anything private, even the tiniest things.”

“If that’s the way detectives compliment people, I’m flattered.”

They both spontaneously decide to take a sip from their cups, eyes glued to each other. This tea ceremony suddenly begins to feel more intense than their chess match from earlier. Even the soothing taste and the relaxing warmth of the drink don’t help.

“It’s more of an observation, I think,” Shuichi admits, biting his wet lips. “We’ve known each other for almost two weeks, yet you’ve never even told me what you’re majoring in.”

Kokichi raises his eyebrows and fakes a surprised gasp. “I thought it’d be pretty obvious, so I never mentioned it! You’re a detective, how come you haven’t figured it out?”

“Well, if you were a _psychologist_ , you’d understand.”

“See? That was super easy! Why should I tell you everything if you can deduce things just fine?”

This guy would probably make a bad therapist or a scientist, Saihara thinks. With all his hyperactivity, hatred of boredom, compulsive lies, and mean jokes he could cause many problems for both himself and his clients. No wonder he’s not interested in classes. 

“If you don’t like your major, why did you apply for it in the first place?”

“Are you trying to interrogate me or something?” Ouma dodges quickly. He’s smiling all the same, but the happy glow in his eyes is already gone, making them look empty, almost doll-like. “I may look like a criminal, or I may _be_ a criminal, but I’m not involved in the case we’re working on right now. Don’t get too fixated on me!” 

It might be a sensitive topic for him, then. Shuichi can imagine many scenarios when people are forced to get a higher education, especially in the spheres they aren’t personally interested in. Kokichi might have a complicated relationship with his family, which would make them a lot alike. If that’s the case, Saihara understands more than anyone how pressured and upset his partner may feel deep inside, and how difficult it is for him to be questioned about it.

“Sorry,” he drops his gaze to the cup, seeing his blurry reflection in the tea. “I don’t want to poke my nose into your business. I’m simply curious, but it’s fine if you don’t wanna talk about it.”

He hears a short, relieved sigh escaping Kokichi’s lips.

“No biggie!” his smile widens. “I’m just curious why _you’re_ curious. You never stop asking me about this and that! Is there any specific reason?”

“A reason?”

Does he really not understand or is he messing with Saihara again? The detective takes another sip from his cup before continuing.

“I just want to get to know you, Ouma-kun.”

“That’s it?”

Kokichi props himself on one elbow, his fingers brushing the pale skin on his cheek.

“I mean, what else could it be? We’re working together as partners, we share some similar interests, I enjoy spending time with you and I hope you enjoy it, too,” Shuichi explains. “I think we could be good friends, Ouma-kun. And that’s why I want to get closer to you and to understand you better.”

He remembers Akamatsu encouraging him to propose this idea, and a quick wave of warmth with little sparks of excitement runs through his body, almost making him smile. Ouma, on the other hand, lowers his gaze, hiding it under his thick eyelashes.

“Friends?” he echoes absently. “Why?”

Could he be against the idea? Shuichi feels like those exciting sparks become electric and begin short-circuiting everywhere, making him twitch. He keeps staring at his partner, waiting for any kind of sign or another word, but the other won’t move. The small fingers start tapping on the table quietly, and it doesn’t look like an invitation for a game this time.

Does he not want to continue their relationship after the project?

Saihara worryingly reaches out to him and touches the tapping finger with his own. The touch is so light and careful that he barely feels the other’s warm skin, but it makes both of them wince and meet eyes with each other again.

This is a bit awkward. Shuichi hurryingly swallows a lump in his throat that appeared out of nowhere.

“Is there something wrong with us being friends?” he asks, trying not to come off as forceful.

Kokichi snickers. This _nishishi_ sounds strained and unsure.

“The deal is, I don’t _befriend_ people,” the purple-haired boy explains in a lazy voice as if he suddenly got bored by this conversation. “Friends aren’t reliable. I only recruit useful people to help me with this and that or to join my organization if they’re trustworthy enough.”

Shuichi can’t tell if it’s a lie or a confession. This isn’t a recorded video, so he can’t rewind and watch it again, paying closer attention to the way Ouma speaks or behaves. This isn’t even a part of their project, though it certainly feels like one. Something like an additional task, “befriend your reserved partner without pushing him away”. What kind of reward might Shuichi get for completing it?

“I see,” he lets out a long sigh and shrugs. “It’s just– it would be nice to meet casually as we did on Sunday when we played chess. Without a project to finish, I mean. We could just hang out and talk about stupid things. Watch a comedy movie. Meet at the university café to try out new tea. For me, it would be fun.”

He catches Kokichi dropping his smirk and raising his eyebrows; this expression reminds him of their first encounter and that sudden revelation about the wrong class. Again, it happens for a mere second, but this time Shuichi captures it in his head like a photograph and leaves it there to analyze later. Ouma punches him in the shin under the table again, now being less merciful, and the detective jumps, already distracted.

“My leg totally slipped,” the other laughs. “Or maybe I couldn’t stand you being so selfish.”

“Selfish? What do you mean by that?” Saihara asks, stroking the place that hurts. A pair of purple eyes pierce through him rather glacially.

“Want me to be honest?”

“I always do.”

Kokichi straightens his back and erases all emotions from his face.

“I know I’m not boring, but _you_ definitely are, Saihara-chan. I don’t want to hang out with you. It’s been no more than two weeks and I’m already tired of you. We should just forget about each other and pretend we’re strangers right after this hell of a project is finished.”

Ouch.

These words are sharp and cold like blades, and they’re all aimed at Shuichi’s kind heart to slice it into small pieces, to cover it in countless scars before the detective can take another step forward. They make him stop mid-sentence, pause his thoughts.

But the fact that it’s so _openly obvious_ makes Shuichi realize,

“It’s a lie. Isn’t it?”

Instead of getting hurt, he widens his smile, now feeling a bit more confident. Ouma almost hit the table with his knees as he bounces on the chair and lets out a loud breath.

“It could be! Are you so eager to hang out with me that you’re ready to believe it is?”

He looks satisfied. What a weird person.

The tension melts immediately. Shuichi feels the scent of tea softly tickling his nose, and it’s calming him down. Bits of grape-flavored sweetness make this smell even more pleasant.

“Well, I am,” the young detective chuckles, struggling not to lower his gaze shyly. “So, how about it? Can we stay in touch after the project is over?”

He wants to repeat that old attempt of a handshake, but Kokichi overtakes him, bending over the table to pat his partner on the shoulder.

“As I said, Saihara-chan is very useful! So it’s obvious I wouldn’t lose such a good person that easily!”

Useful or not, it seems he’s also having fun when they’re together. Shuichi feels relief numbing his body and mind. His eyes fix on Ouma’s wide grin, only to notice that it looks more like a genuine smile now.

“Yes, let’s keep this relationship going after you present the project,” the boy continues. “I also hope you’ll ask me for help in solving some other cases in the future!”

With that, the future seems less dull and boring, and even the approaching finals don’t make Saihara’s chest burn with the usual anxiousness. He imagines them spending time like this, in his apartment, drinking tea and puzzling over a difficult case, being a _“golden detective duo”_ Kokichi mentioned. This fantasy gives him butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh, absolutely.” He’s so lucky to have such a partner.

They finish the tea, grab a bowl of cookies with them and move to the couch, ready to work.

***

_“Toujo-san, when was the last time you visited the room where the trick was performed?”_

_“I was the one to lock it for the night, to make sure no one would enter the room at night and accidentally ruin the equipment or decorations. It was around 10 pm.”_

_“For how long have you been there?”_

_“No more than five minutes, I believe. I checked the curtains, turned the lights off, and locked the door. The proof would be the surveillance camera footage from the hallway leading to the room.”_

Kokichi flinches, waving his hand as a desperate signal for Shuichi to pause the video. The family maid freezes on the screen, looking directly at the interrogator with her calm, cold eyes. Her voice never changes its tone, her body never tenses up, she keeps her composure on every video; yet, Ouma might’ve noticed something important, and Shuichi is curious about what it could be.

“See? See?” the purple-haired boy starts pointing at Toujo’s face. His partner squints his eyes, getting used to the bright blue light in the surrounding darkness, and tries to detect anything suspicious. Nothing catches his eye.

“See what?”

Kokichi presses his small body to Saihara’s and moves the laptop closer to his face, blinding him even more. The poor detective grimaces helplessly, but his struggles are ignored.

“When she talks about the security camera,” Ouma whispers into his ear, “she sounds desperate to prove it right away. _And_ she bites her lip. _And_ her voice gets slightly higher than usual. _And_ she said two videos ago that she didn’t mind being on the suspect list since she was confident about her innocence. _And_ I ran out of ideas about everyone else. I just used the method of elimination.”

Though Shuichi isn’t sure about her biting her lip, given the camera angle, his colleague’s words make a lot of sense. The maid clearly stated she wasn’t worried about being suspected. Her previous answers were always short and precise. There was no need to add anything unless she was told to.

However, it’s not enough to make a final decision. Saihara rewinds the video, watching Toujo’s face with the same attentiveness as entomologists watch bugs, listening to her voice. An unexpected yawn escapes his mouth.

It’s almost midnight, after all.

The apartment is getting darker and colder each hour. The boys are too lazy to leave the couch that they warmed up with their bodies, so no one bothers to turn the lights on or to make another cup of hot tea. They’ve been watching and discussing every video like an engaging anime while gobbling snacks, but now it starts to feel tiring and heavy. The coziness that helped them stay energized eventually disappears.

Shuichi screenshots the needed moment and takes another note. Kokichi watches him with an absent gaze.

He must be tired. He probably needs to go home already.

“Hey,” the detective puts the notebook away and turns to his partner. “Are you okay? Don’t you need to go?”

“You’re the one who just yawned,” Ouma frowns. “By the way, did you know that people who yawn when they hear or see someone else yawn can be considered empaths?”

Well, maybe he doesn’t want to leave yet. Shuichi nods to himself and gets back to the video. “No, I didn’t. Is that true?”

“Yes. It’s a psychological fact.”

“I see.”

“So I’m not an empath.”

“Sure.”

Now that they got distracted, Saihara can’t help but notice how persistently Kokichi’s body gets pressed against his own and how it shivers lightly from time to time. He also pays attention to the other’s posture – the boy’s curled up, hugging his knees and hiding his nose in between them like a sleepy cat. The videos they’ve been focusing so hard on suddenly lose their meaning.

“Ouma-kun, are you cold? I can bring you a warm blanket.”

A pair of purple eyes light up beautifully in the darkness. Their light is much more pleasing to look at than the bright laptop screen.

“I’m not cold,” Ouma breathes out. “When I was a child, doctors said I had such a thick skin that I would never feel hot or cold. I also never sweat.”

A liar till the end. Very well. Shuichi slowly gets up, leaving his partner without anything to lean on. He hears a disappointed sigh but decides to ignore it and play along.

“Is that so? Lucky you, then.”

The coldness of the floor crawls through his warm socks to burn his already cold skin. Shuichi feels like he’s crossing an ice rank. This night must be awfully chilly; no wonder Kokichi, being so warm all the time, is shivering like a scared kitten.

The detective grabs a blanket from the bedroom and comes back, already wrapped in it. His partner gives him an uncaring look, but Shuichi can see tiny sparks of jealousy flickering in his eyes. They get even brighter when he sits back on the couch, making himself comfortable and warm. How long will it take this stubborn liar to admit he needs a blanket too? The compassionate part of Saihara already begs him to give it to the poor guy, but he pushes these thoughts away, pursing his lips so they don’t curve in a curious smirk.

“Okay, mister Walking Refrigerator,” Kokichi yawns and lightly digs his elbow into Shuichi’s ribs. “Now that you’re warm, can we get back to business?”

He sneakily moves closer to the other, pressing his shoulder against the detective’s arm. This little game is so silly that Shuichi doesn’t want to finish it just yet.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for pausing the process,” he says innocently. “Let’s decide on the culprit, shall we?”

An irritated snort tickles his ear. “It’s the maid. I’m certain.”

“Seems like it, but we should go over the notes we made one more time. That way we’ll finally connect all our clues and guesses.”

Thus, they get back to work. The warm blanket helps Saihara cozy up and forget about everything but the case again. He’s finally able to concentrate fully, and it speeds up the process. The only distraction is, of course, Kokichi. He still does his best to keep up with the lie, despite his body giving him away. Shuichi often catches him trying to slide a foot under the very edge of the blanket or hide a hand in the loose folds of it, and it amuses him a lot.

“Her motive was probably the Yumeno family money. She wanted to pin the crime on Himiko-san’s father since he was about to get an inheritance from his late brother,” the detective monologues with a very concentrated, serious voice.

“Exactly,” his partner responds reluctantly while playing with the thick warm fabric and staring at it almost hungrily.

“She had a master key to every room. Himiko-san and her friends testified so...”

“So true king.”

“During the interrogations, she was always emotionless as though she was careful not to slip up, but when she’s asked about her relationship with the Yumeno brothers, her body language changes slightly, along with the tone of her voice...”

“Yeah.”

After a little while, Kokichi starts sniffing, so it doesn’t take long for Shuichi to finally move their subtle game from a dead end. Something clicks in his head – _“you’re literally torturing a person”_ – but he feels unexplainably playful and way less reasonable than usual. Must be Ouma’s influence.

“Ouma-kun,” he turns to his colleague and notices how his small turned-up nose is now red and swollen. Kokichi looks like he just went outside. “Are you _absolutely sure_ you’re not cold?”

“What kind of question is that?” the liar sniffs again. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“I may be imagining things, but could it be… a lie?”

“Me? Lying? Never!”

Shuichi carefully touches Ouma’s hand. It’s much colder than mister Walking Refrigerator’s.

“You know,” he says more quietly as if telling a secret, “if you need me to share a blanket with you, just ask.”

Kokichi jerks back like a cautious stray animal, piercing through Saihara with a rather suspicious gaze. Too bad his body betrays him again, sending a hardly noticeable wave of shivers down his limbs, and he sneezes, losing his composure. 

Shuichi should probably buy a heater for the upcoming Winter. It really is getting cold at night.

“So?” he chuckles. “Do you need a blanket?”

Kokichi looks defeated. Not just defeated – he’s destroyed, he’s cruelly murdered, heartbroken, shattered into thousands of pieces. His lips start twitching, his eyes get watery, his arms wrap around his petite body and hug it tight, now shivering ten times more intensely, and he sighs so lamentably that Shuichi feels like he’s watching a tragedy unfold on a theater stage. His partner slowly crawls closer, keeping eye contact with his one-man audience, and nods with despairing helplessness.

“Saihara-chan,” he breathes out, voice higher and softer than usual. “I’m _sooo_ cold. Can you cover me, _pwetty pwease?_ ”

This is so touching. He should’ve been majoring in Drama.

Shuichi barely swallows an adored chuckle and outstretches the blanket towards Ouma. The latter snuggles up to him with the speed of light, a relieved snort escaping his lips. Even though he’s been cold for so long, his body warms up the space faster than Shuichi’s, making it cozier under the blanket. The familiar scent of grape soda, now mixed with a faint aftertaste of tea and cookies, embraces the detective, and he’s more than happy to drown in it. He wishes his apartment smelled like that all the time.

And then, casually and slowly, Kokichi puts his head on the detective’s shoulder.

Saihara’s poor heart starts racing. Blood rushes to his cheeks, fills his head with its boiling heat, burning all thoughts until they’re no more. His stomach, his lungs– all of his insides become weightless, and he’s ready to float in this cold night air like a snowflake, slowly and carelessly.

_How is he supposed to pretend he doesn’t want to get back to the project now?_

Shuichi tries to turn his head, but his nose ends up nuzzling into Ouma’s messily dyed hair, surprisingly soft and smelling like a child’s coloring book with every page completed. The other doesn’t seem to mind; he must be enjoying toying with the shy detective like this, no doubt.

“Do you,” Saihara clears his throat because his voice falters, “do you want another cup of tea? It would be bad if you got sick.”

His partner snickers lazily. “Don’t make me laugh,” he murmurs into the blanket. “No one gets sick like that. But damn, Saihara-chan’s apartment could easily become a morgue! No wonder you’re always so cold.”

“Sorry. My old heater broke last year and I still haven’t bought a new one. I didn’t think it’d get so cold in November.”

“Good, I was lowkey scared you would come out to me as a vampire.”

The stupid joke makes both of them laugh, and Shuichi feels a little freer than before, getting used to their closure. He slides down a little so that Kokichi gets more comfortable on his shoulder; the other hums approvingly, his satisfied smile being audible.

“By the way,” he mumbles in a much quieter voice. “Why do we need to finish this before Saturday? What kind of plans does Saihara-chan have for this weekend?”

Oh. The embarrassment from earlier immediately crawls back into Saihara’s head. He wants to tell a lie at first but remembers how fast Ouma pointed out contradictions in the videos, and it stops him. After all, if they’re being so close, there’s no point in hiding, right?

He sighs, bites his lip. “The truth is… I’m invited to a party. That’s the reason.”

“A party?! Damn!” Kokichi whistles. “I didn’t expect such an introvert like you to go to one.”

“What do you mean? Of course introverts can go to parties willingly!”

“And how often does Saihara-chan bless parties with his fascinating presence?”

Shuichi jerks his shoulder so that Ouma’s head bounces lightly. The other whines but doesn’t back away.

“More importantly… Are you mad we’re staying up late for such a dumb reason?” the detective asks, trying to hide embarrassment in his voice.

Kokichi sighs loudly in response. “Of course I am! How come you’re going to have fun after this and I’m not?”

Even though the dramatic tone of his voice makes it obvious he’s lying, Saihara can’t help but feel guilty. The circumstances are getting worse and worse. He’s making his partner, who helps him with the project he won’t get any credit for, waste his precious time simply because he wants _(does he, really?)_ to go to the party. This is ridiculous.

Besides, Kokichi doesn’t look like a pushover who’d normally agree to do such a thing. Yet there he is. Leaning on Shuichi, sharing a blanket with him.

He’s so weird.

“I’m sorry,” the detective breathes out and thoughtlessly brings Ouma closer to himself, awkwardly attempting to hug him but retreating immediately. “Technically, I could invite you to go with me. The host probably wouldn’t mind.”

For some reason, Kokichi’s body tenses up and he freezes, squeezed against his partner. Does he not like parties?

“Nah, it’s fine,” he mumbles. “To be honest, I already have plans for Saturday. I just didn’t want to tell you, but now we’re equals.”

Shuichi is more than glad to hear this. “Oh. That makes everything less complicated, then.”

Their conversation goes back to the discussion about the case. They warm each other up under the blanket, with the surrounding atmosphere being even cozier than before, and eventually, Saihara realizes he never wants to leave the couch. By never he means _never in his life,_ of course. He must've found his perfect place in the world.

Kokichi’s voice starts to sound like a sweet lullaby to him; it’s sleepy and quiet, gently murmuring into Shuichi’s neck. No tea or relaxing music can compare to the tender melody the purple-haired boy makes with simple phrases and lazy comments. It gets slower, and quieter, and slower, and quieter…

Until it stops completely, changed by quiet, steady breathing.

Shuichi continues to work on the notes until they look finished and presentable, not daring to move and wake his partner up. He’s surrounded by a comfortable silence with echoes of their playful voices still lingering in the cold night air. His heart is incredibly full of sweet, pleasant feelings he has probably never really experienced before, always being buried in studies, absorbed by his inner world; now, he embraces these feelings gladly and enjoys them as much as his usual cup of freshly brewed coffee.

Ouma sleeping on his shoulder is the cutest thing that has ever happened to him, after all.

Once again, Shuichi finds himself smiling like an idiot as he closes the laptop and carefully leans against his snuffling partner. Well, what else can he do if Kokichi’s warm breath lightly tickles his cheek and his lips are curving on their own? With his foot, he pushes all the books from the couch down on the floor, and before any last thoughts manage to take over his dizzy mind, he drifts off to sleep.

It’s the first time in a while he fell asleep with a smile on his face. Though he must admit, it gets very awkward in the morning.

_Ah, by the way._

The project is finished.


End file.
